


Good Dog Needs New Home

by UnorganizedLetters



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Animal Abuse, F/F, Harm to Animals, It gets better for Tucker, No part of Clexa is involved in the abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:28:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnorganizedLetters/pseuds/UnorganizedLetters
Summary: Tucker is a Good Boy, he just never had someone tell him that.





	1. Chapter One

The echo of boots pounding up the stairs sent the rottweiler scrambling underneath the bed. He did his best to hide his entire body but knew that a portion of his rump was sticking out. He missed the times when he was just a puppy and could fit his body anywhere and would be able to go hours without being discovered.

"Tucker," his owner yelled. "Tucker, you dumb dog! Get out here right now!"

Tucker whined low in his throat, his long tail twitching in fear. He tried to scramble more of his body underneath the bed.

He heard the boots of his owner stomp up the stairs and Tucker knew that he would be discovered soon. He would only know of pain for the next few minutes as his owner beat him with everything that was within grasp. One time his owner had been smoking when he had gotten beat and now he had a cigarette burn on one of the pads of his paw. He walked with a limp because it was never given the proper time to heal before his owner would do it all over again.

A hand grabbed him by his tail and dragged him out of his safe zone. He cried out in pain when a steel toed boot met his back leg several times. No matter how hard he wriggled his owner wouldn’t let go of him.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you,” his owner questioned. “Don’t. Fucking. Piss. Or. Shit. On. My. Floors.” Each word was punctuated with another kick to his sore body. He wanted to tell his owner that he wouldn’t use the bathroom inside if he was given a choice but he was never taken outside.

After a few more rough kicks to his bruised ribs his owner let him go, mumbling about how Tucker was a dumb guard dog that was more trouble than he was worth. Tucker whined, feeling more than just physical pain. He hated letting his owner down, he hated not being good enough. He hated not being a Good Boy.

Tucker fell into a restless sleep, waking up at every creak of the house. Late that night he heard footsteps walk up the stairs again. He panicked, not knowing who it was. His owner tended to stay downstairs on the sofa, watching TV and drinking something that smelled terrible to Tucker.

The person reached the doorway to the room Tucker was in and Tucker made a decision. He wasn’t going to be a bad dog anymore and cower in the corner. He was going to be a Good Boy and defend his owner and house.

Tucker leaped forward, ignoring the pain he felt all over his body, and gripped the wrist of whoever was in the doorway in his teeth. Something clattered to the floor and Tucker spared a moment to glance at it. It was a knife.

"Ow, shit!" A voice yelled out. He recognized it as his owner's and he released the grip in panic.

Tucker tried to lick the wound in apology and for his efforts got a rough slap on the head. He whimpered, drawing his body away from the man.

Roughly, his owner reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him towards him. "You've disrespected me and my house for the last time." With his uninjured hand busy holding Tucker down he grabbed the dropped knife with his injured one. 

The last thing Tucker saw was the knife swinging towards his face.

****

He woke up just like he went to sleep, if you could consider someone knocking you out as going to sleep. Scared to be alive and afraid of what death could hold for him. 

Immediately, he tried to open his eyes only to find out they wouldn't. They were forcibly closed together by something and he started to panic. If he couldn't see, how would he be able to protect his owner? He wanted to be a good boy. Good boys kept watch over the house and he needed his eyes for that.

He whined and shook his head. He needed to be a good boy. He had to be one, there was no other option for him. Whipping his head back and forth more, he tried to dislodge or break or do whatever it was he could to whatever was holding his eyes shut. 

Something touched his back and he flinched away from it. He was sore there and every touch brought pain.

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe now."

Something smelling juicy and meaty was placed in front of his nose. He sniffed it more, saliva collecting in his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten anything, and he had no memory at all of eating something that smelled that good.

The food was waved in front of his face again, "Are you feeling well enough to eat? Huh, boy?"

He heard a clatter and flinched, fearing that he was about to he hurt again. The fact that he couldn't see where the hurt was going to come from made it all worse. "Sorry, I just put the food in the bowl. I know you're scared right now so I'm going to go stand outside and let you eat in peace. I'll be right there if you need anything."

Tucker only understood a few words of what was said but he could hear the door to whatever room he was in open and close. The footsteps stopped, making him believe that the person didn't go far.

His stomach growled as his nose focused on that delicious scent in front of him. He really wanted to eat it but knew that if he tried he would get the beating of his life. He only got food when he was a Good Boy and he hadn't been one in a long time.

His ears perked up a bit when he heard voices outside of the door.

"How long has the food been in front of him now?"

"Twenty minutes," replied the person that was previously in the room with him.

"Shit," the other voice cursed. "Not even a single bite?"

"Not even." A moment later they added, "Think he has food anxiety."

"Shit," the voice cursed again. "What do we do? Once his eyes heal up enough he's going to have to go to a shelter. There's no way to tell how he'll respond to that situation."

The person with the familiar voice hummed, "I might have a solution, I just have to make a call first. She's going to be mad at me for waking her up at four in the morning but I'm sure she'll understand why."

***

"Hello," Lexa grunted into the phone. "This better be important, Lincoln."

"Lex," Lincoln started. "Sorry for calling so early. You know I wouldn't if I didn't have to though."

"I know," Lexa rubbed her eyes and stretched her body out on her bed. "What's up?"

"We had a dog come in to the emergency clinic tonight, both eyes slashed through with a knife among other serious injuries."

Lexa sat up in her bed, her heart picking up its rhythm as she listened to the story.

"It was touch and go for a bit but he managed to pull through. When he's all healed up he'll have to leave and go to a shelter."

Lexa interrupted him, "Lincoln, why are you telling me all of this?"

She already suspected she knew the reason why and she knew what her answer was going to be without question.

"Lex, none of us want to put him through that. A shelter isn't the right place for a dog who went through what he did. And I know you have some experience in this area that might help him. So I was hoping that maybe you could, if you're okay with it to, I don't know," Lincoln stumbled over his words.

"Lincoln," Lexa sighed and ran her hand through her messy hair, "Okay."

Damn her _bleeding _heart.__


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want y'all to know that even though I'm currently pre-vet, though that may change as I'm kind of going through a midlife crisis right now, I have no idea how a vet clinic actually works in situations like this. I haven't had the chance to work at one yet.

It was a few days after Lexa had gotten the call from Lincoln that she finally got the chance to meet Tucker. He was healing along nicely but still needed more time. The clinic wanted to keep him longer, but they were one of two emergency vet clinics in the area and didn’t have much going for them in terms of square footage.

She was in the waiting room of the vet clinic when she saw him for the first time being gently led on a leash by Lincoln himself. The burly man had a dour face as he walked slowly towards her, following the speed the dog was walking instead of trying to set his own.

The rottweiler walked with a noticeable limp to his step. There was a cone around his head to keep him from digging at his bandaged eyes until they could fully heal. His tail and head hung low as if he didn’t believe he had the right to even be alive right now, let alone up and walking.

Lexa’s heart hurt, such a strong and powerful dog had been reduced to nothing but a shell. And even that shell had taken quite a beating.

She stood up from the seat she was in to shorten the distance between her and Lincoln. After a polite greeting between the two of them, he passed the leash over. Tucker didn’t even notice the change of ownership, he barely even acknowledged that the two of them existed in the first place. He just wanted to go home and prove that he was a Good Boy, one who deserved all of the love in the world.

“Here,” Lincoln passed her a reusable bag with the name of the clinic on it. “This is all of his medication that he needs to get better. If you have any questions, just ask me. It’s a long road to recovery for him but I know you can do it.”

Lexa took the bag and nodded her head, “Are there any issues I should be aware of?” She glanced down to see Tucker standing solemnly beside her, not making a peep or moving a muscle. Her heart sunk when she caught a glimpse at all of the wounds on his body. “Besides the obvious.”

Lincoln sighed, “We’ve been having a bit of trouble getting him to eat much. It’s hard to monitor when he only eats when no one else is in the room. Because of his past, we’re not sure if he’s actually eating it or just burying it.”

Lexa frowned, “If he was burying it couldn’t you just have found it? That way there’d be no question about that.”

“We wish it was that simple but he shared a room with another dog for a bit since we’re low on space, and that dog is a glutton. He might’ve been eating Tucker’s food as well.”

Tucker fidgeted next to her, his big head swinging around as he tried to determine where he was. At his movement Lexa looked down at him again, noticing what she missed the first few times she looked at him. His ribs were almost poking out of his body, he was so thin. “That’s why you guys are letting me take him so soon,” Lexa concluded.

“Part of the reason, yes,” Lincoln nodded. “We also think just being here is stressful for him. Figured we needed to get him into a home as soon as possible. Stress isn’t exactly good for the healing process.” Lincoln glanced at a clock on the wall behind Lexa, “I have to get back to work. Again, if you have any questions feel free to ask. You’re really doing us a favor here, Lexa.”

Lexa nodded her head in goodbye, watching as he turned back to enter from where he came. It was just her and Tucker in the room now, and the silence was almost deafening. Although she had experience in dealing with situations like this from growing up, her parents had run a rescue center for abused dogs, she had never done it on her own before. She knew she would be making a lot of phone calls, to both her parents and Lincoln.

“C’mon Tucker,” she murmured. His head lifted a bit at the sound of his name but still drooped low. “Let’s go home.”

****

They had arrived back at Lexa’s place thirty minutes ago and so far things were going about as well as expected. Tucker had followed Lexa as long as she held his leash but the moment she dropped it he stood stock still. Lexa couldn’t blame him, after what he had been through he had the right to act that way. Probably in his head, the less he moved the less he was in trouble.

Lexa let him be, only bothering him once to show him around the place carefully and then making sure he knew where his food and water bowl was. It was a little difficult considering the fact that he couldn’t see where she was taking him but she did her best by trying to give him time to sniff things out. He didn’t of course, but she tried.

She was currently in the process of making food for herself when she accidentally dropped her knife on the floor, a clattering noise echoing across the room.

Tucker moved by himself for the first time she saw and the reason why made her angry at the son of a bitch who had done this to him. He had immediately tried to locate a place to hide, nosing her couch until he bumped into the coffee table behind him. Realizing what it was he shimmied his big body underneath the table only stopping when he couldn’t get his cone to fit through. Soft little whimpers escaped his body as he flinched at unknown forces.

Lexa quickly picked up the knife and placed it in the sink, afterward rushing to Tucker. She kept her distance from him initially. One of the most dangerous things to do was to approach a dog while it was scared, there was no way to predict how it would respond.

“It’s okay, Tucker. I’m sorry,” she whispered. His whimpers slowed down though they didn’t completely disappear. Seeing how he was slightly calmer, Lexa inched closer. She still didn’t touch him though, just let him get used to her presence. Let him get used to the fact that just because one bad person hurt him doesn’t mean she would too.

It took an hour of Lexa just sitting there for him to start to emerge, his head swinging around as he glanced around with his blinded and bandaged eyes. Inch by inch he wriggled out until he was fully surfaced again. Lexa had been talking the entire time about any and everything trying to get him more comfortable with her and it seemed to be working. 

Slowly, she placed her hand in front of his face so he could properly get a scent of her. His wet nose nuzzled her hand a bit as he tentatively sniffed. Lexa’s heart was beating hard in her chest as she waited for his decision. It was a bit of a risk to get so close to a dog like this so soon, especially one with a history of abuse. It usually could take weeks or months for a dog to be comfortable enough around you. So far though he had shown no evidence of aggression and Lexa believed that he was actually just a gentle soul in a big body.

After he was done sniffing her hand he decided that he was finally curious about the place he was in. He took to sniffing around at all of the rooms Lexa had taken him to earlier. At a certain point, he came across his food and water bowl and took a few gentle laps of water before moving on again. He ran into a lot of walls among other things but that didn’t seem to deter him in his curiosity. 

Lexa watched him for a bit before her stomach growled and reminded her of what she was doing before everything else had gone down. She glanced at the time on her wall clock and realized that it was closer to dinner time now than it was to lunch. She didn’t feel like cooking anymore either.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket she realized that she had a few missed texts from Lincoln.

**Lincoln**

**I just got off of work and figured I’d check in.**

**How’s everything? Is he settling in okay? ******

****

Lexa texted him back and immediately got a response from him.

****

******Lexa******

****** **

******About as well as you’d expect, I think. He had a scare earlier, but I think he’s mostly over it now. I think he’s becoming more comfortable with being around me.** ** **

****** **

******Lincoln** ** **

****** **

******I knew you were the right choice.** ** **

****** **

******Hey, so the person who helped rescue him has been asking about him. She said she’s worried and just wants to check on him.** ** **

****** **

******Is it cool if I give her your number? ******** **

****** **

Lexa frowned, she didn’t really like people she didn’t know having her number. But in this case, she figured it was okay, she would probably want the same if she was the other person.

****** **

********Lexa********

****** **

******Yeah, that’s fine. Go ahead. ******** **

****** **

Exiting out of the text conversation she went to dial her favorite takeout place. She didn’t eat takeout much, preferring to remain healthy and cook her own meals. But every now and then she just wanted to pig out on some greasy food.

The food had been delivered and almost completely devoured before she got a text from an unknown number.

****** **

****************

******555-555-5555** ** **

****** **

******hey, lincoln said it was okay for me to text you** ** **

****** **

******about tucker, if you needed context** ** **

****** **

******which you probably didn’t now that i think about it** ** **

****** **

******i’m clarke, by the way** ** **

****** **

******Lexa** ** **

****** **

******Yeah, it’s fine. You can text me any time you want to know information about Tucker.** ** **

****** **

******And Lexa.** ** **

****** **

******Clarke** ** **

****** **

******cool, thanks! i don’t know him that well to be honest. i live next door from his former owner and when i heard some suspicious noises i had to help** ** **

****** **

******Lexa** ** **

****** **

******I’m glad you did.** ** **

****** **

******Clarke** ** **

****** **

******me too ******** **

****** **

Lexa bit her lip and debated with herself for a bit before sending this seemingly harmless but incredibly risky text.

****** **

********Lexa********

****** **

******If you want, we can meet up sometimes or you can come visit so you can see the dog whose life you helped save.** ** **

****** **

******Clarke** ** **

****** **

******REALLY?!** ** **

****** **

******i’d love that, thank you ******** **

****

****

****** **

They quickly set up a day and place to meet before ending the conversation. Lexa glanced to her left to look at Tucker, he was laying down with his legs splooting behind him. He was facing Lexa’s direction but otherwise made no notice of her presence.

****** **

Lexa sighed, “You’ve got a team of people ready to improve your life, Tucker. A good boy like you deserves that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this my dogs and cats were crawling all over me, haha. Meanwhile, when I'm not doing anything they could care less about me.


	3. Chapter Three

Tucker shook his head, irritated with the cone around his neck. It prevented him from doing a lot of things comfortably like laying his head down or hiding in obscure places. He hated it mostly though because it prevented him from being a Good Boy. He had to be a Good Boy.

He was in a new place, he knew that. The scents hanging around the furniture and the floor were mostly unfamiliar to him. He only recognized two scents, one of them went to the man who had been gentle with him and the other to the woman who he assumed he was now staying with.

He didn’t want to stay here though, he wanted to go back to his owner. Even though he had gotten hurt almost every single day there, it was where he belonged. He couldn’t show that he was a Good Boy if he wasn’t able to return home.

And though the woman was nice, _she _wasn’t home.__

Home was where he was corrected for wrongdoings, and he had a lot of those. Home was where he was rightly punished for things that he wasn’t aware he had done but obviously did if he was being hurt for it. Home was where he was always alert and on guard because he had to be in order to make sure that he was being the best Good Boy he knew how to be.  
This wasn’t home, it was far from it.

Instead of getting rough backhands to the head he got cautious pats on his body, the hands careful to avoid his injuries instead of digging into them and making them hurt worse. Though he had been alert on his first day there, he could slowly start to feel his guard come down. This woman had shown him something he had never felt before in his life before, actual kindness.

And he was offered food every day, twice a day. That was a foreign concept to him, his owner barely fed him once a week. Sometimes Tucker would get desperate enough to dig into the trashcan for scraps even if it led to a beating, one of the many ways he failed in being a Good Boy. Good Boys don’t go into the trash to get food, they were lucky if they ate once a week because that’s all he would deserve. He shouldn’t need to eat so goddamn much; dog food is expensive, and money doesn’t grow on trees. He very rarely ate the food the woman offered him, he wasn’t worth the waste of money.

Tucker grunted as he tried to lay on his side, he really wanted this cone off. And whatever was covering his eyes needed to go away too, he wanted to be able to see again. Every now and then the woman would peel a corner of the thing off of his eyes and he would feel the rush of the air as it went to cool him off. When that happened for some reason he still couldn’t see and he had a feeling it was because of what was holding his eyes closed. Stitches, he thought he heard the woman say once. She had been talking to herself, wondering if they would need to be taken out and changed.

“Tuck,” he heard the woman say, there was a clang accompanying her words. “You want to go out for a walk?”

That was another thing that was new to him, walks. From the moment he had arrived home to his owner he had never been outside. All he knew were the walls where he lived and that was all he needed to know, there was no use in knowing more if it wasn’t his job to protect it.

But the smells! The first time he remembered being outside was when the woman had taken him out of that weird smelling building, it smelled both like healing and death to him. But when that door had opened to the outside that scent had left and had been immediately replaced with a myriad of others. Freshly mowed grass, poop from other dogs, the subtle perfume that the woman wore, flowers that made him sneeze when he blindly put his nose in one, _everything _. He had smelled so much and he was going to miss it when he had to go back home.__

__His tail thumped on the floor without his consent, and he leaned his head over to bite at it. He was excited about going outside but he was scared to let the woman know. He used to get beat if his tail made to much noise and though the woman seemed nice, he didn’t want to try her patience with him._ _

__Rather than punishing him like he expected, the woman just laughed. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”_ _

__A leash was attached to the back of his harness and he stood up in preparation. He didn’t want to cause the woman any trouble and was trying to be as agreeable as possible. After a moment of rustling the woman gently led him out. They still had a bit before they reached the outside, they had to walk down a hallway and entire this machine that made his stomach feel funny but took them up and down._ _

__The woman cleared her throat and Tucker straightened up his posture in response. “So, I haven’t been completely honest with you. I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to tell you. But we aren’t just going on a walk.”_ _

__She paused to open the door and led them outside. Immediately Tucker was confronted by his new favorite scent of dirt and grass. He wished he could have seen what it all looked like. The bottom of his cone scraped the ground as he bent his head to smell the ground better, from what he could tell his mark from earlier was still in place._ _

__“We’re actually going to go meet someone who’s desperate to see how you’re doing. Her name is Clarke and from our text conversations she seems nice.”_ _

__There was a gentle tug on his harness from the leash, so Tucker hurried to keep pace. He didn’t have to use the bathroom at the moment and had just been standing there waiting for the woman to walk._ _

__“Of course, if you’re not feeling comfortable at any point we can leave. This is all about your comfort, just do your best to let me know.”_ _

__****_ _

__Lexa paused as if she was expecting an actual answer from the dog. Never mind the point that he probably couldn’t understand a word she was saying. She just wanted him to make a sound, any sound. The entire time he had with her he had barely made any noise, no barks or grunts. Just whimpers when he thought he was going to be in trouble, which he never was._ _

__Quickly they arrived at the park where they were going to meet up with Clarke. Lexa settled on a bench with Tucker standing hesitantly in front of her. She would have let him run around and have fun but the few times she had tried before had just ended up with still standing in front of her, refusing to move._ _

__“Lexa,” she heard someone question._ _

__Immediately her head snapped up and what she saw was something she would remember forever. In front of her and Tucker stood a beautiful blonde, blue eyes and curves, and from what Lexa had gathered from their texts she also had a wonderful personality. In other words, she was the total package._ _

__Lexa hurriedly stood up, wiping her suddenly sweaty hands on her jeans. “Clarke, I assume.” She reached a hand out to shake with the other woman._ _

__“You assume correctly,” she returned Lexa’s handshake quickly, her focus already on the rottweiler between them. “And this must be Tucker.”_ _

__“Yep,” Lexa responded. When she planned this meetup with the other woman she never thought she would be so awkward. Usually, she was in total control of herself and whatever situation she found herself in but by just appearing in front of her this woman had quickly thrown her off her game._ _

__Clarke bent down, placing a hand in front of Tucker’s face so he could decide whether he wanted to sniff it or not. After only a moment, he went to do so._ _

__“Wow, he took a much longer time with that with me,” Lexa laughed awkwardly._ _

__Clarke glanced up from where she had been gently rubbing Tucker’s body to give Lexa a blinding smile, “Must be a testament to how good of a job you’re doing with him.”_ _

__Lexa blushed and gave a bashful smile. “Thanks, though none of it would be possible without you.”_ _

__Giving a hum in response, the blonde looked back down at Tucker. A frown came over her face when she saw all of the wounds over his body and how skinny he was. “I just wish I could have helped him sooner.”_ _

__“You didn’t know Clarke, don’t blame yourself. What matters is that he’s out of that terrible situation now and it’s all because of you. You saved his life.”_ _

__Lexa had a bit of experience in this area because of her parents’ job. Every now and then a dog would be placed with them and a guilty person would follow right behind. They would lament the fact that they felt that they hadn’t done enough for the dog. That though the dog was away from everyone who had ever hurt them it was still too late to reverse the damage that had been done. Lexa decided to do what her parents would have done._ _

__"If you want, you can come visit him. Just let me know when.” A beautiful smile came over Clarke’s face at Lexa’s words. “And you said you’re a freelance artist, right? Well, if you want to you can dog sit for me when I go back to work in a couple of days. I trust him to be alone, but I don’t want him to be, you know?”_ _

__Clarke gasped, surprise coating her face. “I don’t want to impose.”_ _

__“You wouldn’t be,” Lexa insisted._ _

__“Well, now I feel like I should at least do something in return for all that you’re offering me.”_ _

__Lexa shrugged, “I am kind of curious on how you managed to save him. Lincoln didn’t give many details and I just want to know where he came from and what I’m really dealing with.”_ _

__Clarke nodded and got up from her crouched position next to Tucker grimacing when her knees popped. She sat on the bench next to Lexa, scooting closer so that she could pet Tucker if she wanted to. “Okay, but I’ll definitely still owe you.”_ _

__Lexa shook her head, knowing that she would take nothing else from the blonde. If Clarke really did want to dog sit she would be helping save Lexa from the hassle of finding someone else to do it._ _

__Clarke sighed and began her story, “I didn’t know my neighbor well, barely ever saw him unless he was coming home drunk from some bar and was making a ruckus. About a year and a half back he came come with a puppy, I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I wish I had though,” she paused to run her hands gently over Tucker’s prominent ribs. His head turned towards her but otherwise, he wasn’t bothered._ _

__“You couldn’t have known,” Lexa whispered to her. She glanced down at Clarke’s hand that was laying on her own thigh and was tempted to link her own up with it and give it a comforting squeeze. The only reason she didn’t was because they didn’t know each other that well yet._ _

__Clarke just shrugged in response. “When I never saw the dog again I just assumed that he had quickly given it away when caring for it started eating into his bar budget. I never thought to think that he just wasn’t taking the poor dog outside ever again. Flashforward to two weeks ago, I was in my apartment working on a painting for a client and heard this devastating cry from next door. I could hear the pain in fear in it. Then it was silent for a bit before the front door slammed open and the guy comes stumbling out of his place, absolutely covered in blood. I called the police and gave a description of him. Tucker was taken to the nearest emergency clinic, the few glimpses I got of him before though will probably haunt me for life.”_ _

__Suddenly Clarke turned towards Lexa, pure anger and disgust on her face. “Can you believe they found that son of a bitch in a seedy bar, drinking cheap beer with the knife on the counter next to him? He’s lucky his ass is in jail or I probably would have killed him.”_ _

__Lexa silently agreed with the statement. She was already thinking of how she would do it if she ever randomly came across him. Randomly of course referred to her visiting him in jail and beating the shit out of him. If she hadn’t have been raised right, she probably would have gone through with that plan._ _

__As if he knew they were talking about his former owner Tucker turned to face them, his head tilted to the side as he finally sat his rump on the ground. With the cone still on his head, the action was ridiculously cute for this tense moment._ _

__Sniffing around for a bit, Tucker gently nosed at Clarke’s leg. He could sense how angry she was and wanted to do his best to cheer her up._ _

__Reaching out, Clarke rubbed the top of his snout. “I’m not upset with you, boy. You’re a good boy.”_ _

__Lexa watched them for a moment, “I think he’s really starting to like you.”_ _

__Clarke gave Lexa a bright smile a direct contrast to how she was a few moments ago, “You think so, huh?” She nudged Lexa a bit, “Well, what about you?”_ _

__Lexa’s face warmed as she made eye contact with the other woman’s brilliant blue eyes. She glanced down at Tucker who was calmer now than he had been in the entire time that Lexa had known him. Maybe he could somehow sense what Clarke had done for him. Sometimes she suspected that he missed his former home, like a dog version of Stockholm Syndrome but in that current moment she saw none of that. She just saw a dog who was desperate for more of Clarke’s gentle pets._ _

__“I think it’s the same for me,” she finally responded. The tips of Clarke’s ears turned pink but she didn’t glance away._ _

__“I think it is for me too, for both of you guys.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to be better at responding at comments, haha. Right now I'm terrible at it, so to get the ball rolling I'm going to ask one of the most difficult questions to answer. What's your favorite type of dog? (You don't have to pick just one.)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a one shot with Clexa already together but midway my brain was like, what if they aren't though? So, now it's however many chapters I can squeeze out of my brain. 
> 
> Anyway, if you want to ask any questions you can find me on tumblr with the same username.


End file.
